Perhaps it is the place of fate to make a mockery of life. One can only fight so much against the lot to which fate has seen you cast.

It will be a life condemned by one thing or another, the choice which fate would offer. To be destroyed by any action which I could take, and with equal measure so would I be undone with inaction.

As a stream split by stone or rock only to meet itself again, so is my choice this day. I could only wish that in one moment, to all the paths which fate would lead, to all the ways I go, I could only dream of being as the waters down below.

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